He cut her off in between and looked right into her eyes.
"You want me to strike a deal with you?"
He raked his eyes over her from head to toe and said, "Fine. Sleep with me and I'll consider not taking over your company. As simple as that."
---
...
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Blue. Green. Yellow.
Those three specific colours blurred before her like a pixelated picture. It got clearer; slowly, gently. Every speck of it defining itself, competing to be perfect. The blue had wisps of white in it. A pale blue sky with soft chunks of cottony clouds. The greens were long and slender. A far spread of pastural carpet. The yellow drizzled upon the green. A bold sprinkle of tiny yellow flowers nestled cosily into the picture of a meadow. It was definitely a meadow.
A gentle breeze washed over the field, coaxing the flowers into a dancing ripple. The place had a pleasant scent, one you couldn't quite put a finger on. It soothed every nerve in your body and forced you to stop thinking. It urged you to relax and you just couldn't deny it. Soothing yet strong willed. The sky reflected a far away sun, showering you with just the right amount of warmth. Everything fit like a puzzle as if they were an integral whole. Without one, it would all seem largely imbalanced. They needed each other to present this mystical reality of perfection.
The tip of her fingers grazed along the mat of green. Kira gulped audibly. She couldn't believe just how beautiful it was that she was afraid her mere touch would shatter it to million pieces. A wave of breeze passed again and she held her breath to listen to it. It tingled her skin and coyly refreshed the blissful scent. Loose strands of her hair tickled her shoulder blades, teasing her to look to the sides. On either side, the meadows stretched as far as she could see. Not even a single tree in sight. Just the blue, green and yellow. She looked down, half expecting to see herself draped in some delicate white frock. It wasn't so. She wore a chiffon white shirt, paired with polyester grey suit and pants. One of her formal attire for work. The white seemed dirty and she suspected smears of blood on them.
Suddenly, she felt too out of place. She felt as if she was murdering the perfect aesthetic of the meadow just by existing. She felt as though she deserved not to breathe the unpolluted air. In agony, she looked up, worried that the whole meadow would dissolve right in front of her eyes, leaving only a monotonous grey. Instead, she found herself looking at someone else. She was sure they hadn't been there before. The person sighed softly. Unlike her own, it wasn't of despair but of satisfaction. It was a man; one closely familiar to her. His jet-black locks fell lazily over his forehead, teasing to touch the tip of his eyelashes. His cheek bones protruded elegantly like a well-defined sculpture. His skin, she could tell, was soft and tender. A delicate white shirt hung loosely around his frame and his thin white pants extended all the way to the bottom of his toes. Unlike her, he blended perfectly into the colours. Suddenly, he felt like a missing piece she never even knew was missing.
Jungkook stared blissfully at the shapes of clouds, ignorant of her filthy presence. She wanted to call him out, let him know that she was right there. But she did not want to disturb the serenity of the image. A breath escaped her lips, one that signalled the brim of artistic ecstasy. He must have heard her, for he looked right at her. She expected him to be mad at her but instead, he let out a playful smile. Kira found herself smiling back at him despite her misfit existence. She opened her mouth to say something but he put his finger to his lips, shaking his head lightly to deny it. He moved his fingers and touched behind his ears, motioning her to listen. She obliged. She listened as carefully as she could but heard nothing; not even the gentle sway of the flowers. A soft giggle erupted out his pink lips, shattering the silence. The clear ring of his melodic voice tinkled in her ears and she gaped at him. His giggle echoed, dissipating along the stretch of the meadow but the open-mouthed smile remained etched on his face. It joined the harmony of colours.
